


How The Trickster Got His Name

by Spruce_Moose (Duckyboos)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Crack, Gabriel Being Gabriel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckyboos/pseuds/Spruce_Moose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He looks nothing like you Gabe. For one thing, he’s kind of attractive.”</p><p>Dean is a senior at KU when his friend's younger (and infinitely better looking) brother starts as a freshman.<br/>The events that soon unfold are enough to earn Gabriel his well-deserved title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How The Trickster Got His Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betts/gifts).



> This is a prompt fill for the wonderfully talented[ betty days ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sadrobots/pseuds/betty%20days/) who requested the following:  
> 'AU where Dean and Gabe are criminal justice majors, seniors and Cas, Gabe's brother is a brand new freshman at the school. Gabe thinks it would be the most epic senior prank ever to hook them up. GO WILD.'
> 
> Okay. I am so thoroughly British that it's painful and by American standards, I didn't even graduate high school, so the knowledge in this pure nonsense-fest is sketchy at best. Apologies in advance.
> 
> Either way, I hope it's at least passable, and if you want someone who can actually write, go check betty days (sadrobots) out, if you haven't already.

The kid is both graceful and awkward, kind of like a swan taking flight and Dean finds himself simply unable to _not watch_ as Gabriel’s younger brother careens into another student, his nose buried in the book he’s been carrying around like a security blanket for the majority of his first day at Kansas University. “He looks nothing like you Gabe. For one thing, he’s kind of attractive.”

‘Kind of’ is an understatement. Those lips for a start.

“Fuck you Winchester –“

Dean smiles sardonically as he lazily interjects, “not in this lifetime or the next.”

“ – Not all of us can be male models.” Gabriel turns to Dean then, amber eyes lighting up alongside the smile on his face. Which is never a good thing. Dean rates Gabe’s smiles on a sliding scale from ‘oh shit, he’s about to do something bad’ all the way to ‘we can bury the body at the 50ft yard line and nobody would notice for at least a week’.

“Let me introduce you… what kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t let my favorite bro meet _the_ Dean Winchester on his first day?”

Dean closes the textbook that he wasn’t really reading any way – he gets the general gist of actus reus by now – and shoots his friend-cum-fellow-criminal-justice-student his best bitchface. One he learned from his own brother, Sammy. It’s probably a weak imitation of the real thing, but at least he’s trying.

As usual, it’s ineffective, because mere seconds later, Gabriel is calling out across the quadrant with a shrill imitation of a nineteenth century schoolteacher. “Ohh, Casty—elll!”

Almost all of the forty or so students currently milling about the quad simultaneously look up towards the source of the noise. Pretty much all except one. Castiel’s bodily sigh is visible from a distance and Dean can’t help his small smile at that, ‘cause as bad as he has it with Gabe, at least he gets to go home off-campus and away from him. Poor Castiel is family; he’ll never be truly free.

“Don’t ignore me little bro, or I’ll be forced to recall that incident with the shaving foam and the sky diving instructor!”

 _That_ gets a reaction.

Within seconds, the younger Novak is storming past the stares of bemused students and straight into Gabriel’s space, finger raised, blue eyes – _nice_ blue eyes – ablaze and filled with righteous fury. “You fucking dare and I swear I will tell Michael about that time you and Kali had sex in his –“

Gabriel laughs easily, effectively cutting off Castiel’s rant just as it was getting interesting. Which seems to be about the point that he realizes his brother has played him.

“You’re a dick,” he offers, voice pitched low and irritated.

Gabriel just ignores him, smiling widely and shoving him towards Dean, who is still sitting with his back against the tree, closed book in his lap, looking the epitome of college life as he watches the entire display. It only serves as a reminder for how he hasn’t pranked Sam in a while.

Next visit, he vows to. The Nair episode went a little too well and he’s sure that Sam has some form of retaliation planned, but the kid just isn’t as imaginative as Dean.

‘Nor does he have Gabriel to help with ideas.

“Cassie, this is Dean Winchester. Dean this little whippersnapper is my brother, Castiel.” _Little_ is definitely a wrong descriptor for Cas. Dean could think of several adjectives that would resemble something ripped straight out of a romance novel that would do the job better, but for the time being he’s just going to go with disagreeing with Gabe that Cas is little, as he’s easily taller than his older brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

Okay, so the scowl is kind of adorable, but then Castiel turns the full force of those baby blues on Dean, and it renders him unable to function for at least five seconds. He’s not usually this depraved over people he’s just met, but he’s kind of going through a dry spell with his girlfriend Bela and Castiel is all kinds of beautiful with the morning sun haloing his head and well, Dean’s only human.

“Hello, Dean,” he bends at the waist to shake Dean’s hand, black slacks pulling taut across what – from what Dean could see across the quad, at least – looks like a great ass. Judging by Gabe’s shit-eating grin, he already has a good idea of exactly what Dean is thinking. And whereas most older brothers would be disgusted by Dean’s train of thought, Gabriel would actively encourage it; probably shower them in a confetti of condoms whilst offering up his own bed.

“Hey Cas,” Dean flashes a private, genuine smile, usually reserved for his closest friends and family rather than his trademark smirk; the one that he wheels out when he’s trying to get into somebody’s pants.

Castiel does this sort of squinty-frown thing at the new nickname, but Dean doesn’t get scolded for it, so he counts it as a win. “You play on the football team, is that correct?”

Dean shades his eyes with his hand, sun almost blocking his view as Cas straightens up again. It occurs to him that the polite thing to do would be to stand up too, but being as he’s currently sporting a semi after a rather vivid daydream about Cas’s lips around his cock, he’d rather risk looking bad-mannered over being labelled a pervert. Though, depending on whom you speak to, one or both are definitely true. “Yeah, quarterback.”

With a lascivious wink that makes Dean feel dirty allover, Gabriel interposes, “Cassie’s a tight end.”

Dean’s lips twitch against a smile. It’s an awful joke; one he’s heard – and said – a hundred different times, but as always, Gabriel really takes the inappropriateness to a whole new level.

A flush sweeps across the arches of Cas’s cheekbones and Dean definitely doesn’t add it to a list in his head of adorable things about the freshman, “do you ever shut up?”

“I think we both know the answer to that, Cassie.”

 

***

 

The senior prank.

Dean has been dreading it for months. Gabriel is a revered (and feared) prankster and practically everybody – even the teachers – have been waiting on what promises to be an epic year. No cups filled with water strategically placed in the corridors, oh no. Only the best for Gabe’s uni.

However, there is absolutely nothing in this world – or the next – that could have possibly prepared him for what actually happens.

They’re winning their match against the KSU Wildcats; nearly always an easy victory and today is proving no different, retiring at halftime with a score of 21 – 14 and the team are just traipsing off the field, making way for the cheerleading squad and the halftime show, when Dean is stopped in his tracks by the trilling of a familiar voice over the PA system.

It’s like watching a car-crash in horrific slow-motion with hundreds of cameras catching the action; getting it just right from every single angle so Dean can see the twist of the metal, the crunch of impact.

Gabriel is leading the line of girls, dressed in the Jayhawks’ colors, and even from this distance across the pitch, Dean can see the smear of bright red lipstick on Gabe’s lips, matching the crimson of his pleated cheerleading skirt. His stomach is exposed in the blue crop-top and his short chestnut hair has been scraped back into tiny pigtails.

Dean looks helplessly up to the stands, eyes frantically darting over the crowd, seeking out Gabriel’s younger brother in some kind of futile hope that he might have a clue what the senior is up to with this shit now.

His eyes finally land on Castiel, sitting in the stands near the back, looking every bit as petrified and astounded as Dean feels, eyes wide and jaw slack.

And then the song kicks in; a raucous beat that Dean – unfortunately – recognizes and he’s torn away from his conciliatory stare with Cas, to face the music. Quite literally.

_‘Hey hey Dean-o!_

_I don’t like your girlfriend,_

_No way, no way,_

_I think you need a new one,_

_Hey hey Dean-o!_

_Cas could be your girlfriend._

_Hey hey Dean-o!_

_I know that you like him,_

_No way, no way,_

_You know it’s not a secret._

_Hey hey Dean-o!_

_Cas should be your girlfriend.’_

 

It certainly explains a lot. For the past month or so, Gabriel hasn’t been around anywhere near as much; avoiding studying with Dean and – far more importantly – Call Of Duty night. Dean had put it down to Gabe wanting to spend time with his brother, but now in the face of his friend’s impressively energetic dance routine accompanying the humiliating song, he realizes that he was naïve.

Gabriel has pulled some crooked shit in the past, but this really takes the cake.

The whole thing is excruciating; a million different shades of horrifying and Dean isn’t quite sure what to do with himself other than just stand there and hope that this is a horrific dream that he’s going to wake up any minute now, or that he’s lucky enough to suffer a stroke in the next five seconds.

Really, he should know better; he’s _never_ been that lucky.

 

_‘– You could do so much better,_

_I think you should get together now,_

_And that’s what everyone’s talking about –‘_

 

As the chorus kicks in again, Dean rechecks the stands for Cas, hoping to somehow reassure him that it’s okay and not to take any of this shit seriously. They’re adults, they can talk about Dean’s pathetic little crush responsibly and without it resorting to Dean getting kicked in the balls.

Hopefully.

The point is a moot one though, because Cas is gone and Dean can’t stop the pit that opens in his stomach, swallowing what little hope he'd allowed himself to have.

 

_‘– I can see the way, I see the way you look at him,_

_And even when you look away, I know you think of him –‘_

Fuck. Fuck shit fuck.

 

***

 

Arriving on campus the next morning, he can sense that something is off. It’s eerily quiet and there’s something about it that just _reeks_ of Gabriel. Dean stops dead in his tracks a few feet from his car, keys still clutched firmly in his fist and he begins absently-mindedly pushing the ignition key through the space between his index and middle finger; a nervous habit borne of living in too many rough areas where it was prudent to always be on guard in case of a fight.

And then the PA system crackles into life.

“Dean Winchester –“ it’s Gabriel. Of course it is, “and Castiel Novak. This is a public service announcement. For every day that you two don’t – how shall I put this – _do it like they do on the discovery channel_ , I will prank the entire school. Starting today.”

Fuck. Fuck shit fuck.

 

***

That first day Gabriel puts sugar in all of the salt shakers in the cafeteria. This is only found out when some unlucky students bite into their sugary fries.

***

The next day, Gabriel puts beef stock in what should have been orange jello.

Bela dumps Dean saying that she doesn’t need this shit.

He’s surprised she lasted this long.

***

On day five, Gabriel reprograms the printers in the computer lab, so that every time someone clicks on print the result is not their paper on the Third Reich or Thermodynamics, but is in fact a picture of mating rabbits.

***

On day seven, Dean finally catches a glimpse of Castiel coming out of the English lecture hall, but the second he lays eyes on Dean, he scuttles off, cheeks aflame, head down.

***

On day eleven, a guy that Dean has never spoken to before begs him to just give in and bone Castiel. He even offers him $100.

Dean politely declines, but doesn’t tell him that he’d gladly do it for free.

Gabriel steals the game ball for the match against the Tigers and replaces it with one made out of cake.

***

It’s day thirteen before Dean sees Cas again.

The freshman is sitting by himself in the cafeteria, carefully picking apart the burger on his plate, now – along with the rest of KU – inherently wary of any food that Gabriel may have had the opportunity to tamper with, when Dean drops his bag on the table and plonks himself down opposite.

“Hey, Cas.”

Reflexively Castiel makes to get up, grabbing his tray and nearly throwing himself off the bench in his haste to put distance between himself and Dean.

Which stings more than Dean would really like to admit, lest he become some kind of chick flick cliché. Sure, Cas has been humiliated in front of the whole school, but so has Dean. Surely they should be coming up with some kind of counter strategy for crippling Gabriel beyond all comprehension?

Dean votes stealing a shitload of bandages from the medical center and binding Gabe to a goalpost.

“Cas, please don’t run away, man.” He pleads, desperation getting the better of him as he reaches out, wrapping his hand around Cas’s wrist, stilling his movements.

Castiel finally meets Dean’s eyes as he pauses, blue flicking up, pained expression barely hidden and Dean reluctantly releases him, momentarily satisfied that Cas isn’t going anywhere. “Dean. How are you?” It’s asked smoothly, like he wasn’t just freaking out and about to bolt from the cafeteria, like he hasn’t spent the last two weeks avoiding Dean like the plague, like the whole uni hasn’t been placing bets on how long it takes them to fuck.

He ignores Cas’s question in favor of asking his own as the freshman retakes his seat with a world-weary sigh, “why are you avoiding me, Cas? I know that all this is a bit,” he gestures vaguely, searching for the right word, “ _weird_...”

_Stellar work, Winchester._

Castiel’s mouth twists into a wry smile, “a bit weird,” he parrots, picking up a fry off his own plate and sniffing it, and Dean tries – and fails – to hold back a small smile. “I would say that’s an understatement, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Dean concedes, unsure of what to say next. He doesn’t want Cas to run away again, but he’s scared of opening his mouth out of fear that he’ll put his foot in it.

An awkward silence falls between them, during which Dean just watches Castiel play with the food on his plate, thick eyelashes lowered, completely avoiding Dean’s gaze.

“I have to say, I never thought me _not_ having intercourse would be of such interest to so many.”

Dean has the solution. It’s on the tip of his tongue to say, ‘well let’s just fuck then! Problem solved!’ but he can’t bring himself to. It’s one thing for Gabriel to try to force Dean onto Cas, but it’s entirely another for Dean to do it.

Instead, he scratches the back of his neck, feeling wholly awkward, “yeah, man, I hear you. Gabriel certainly is making it hard,” he flushes at his word choice, “err, you know what I mean.”

_Smooth like butter._

Castiel chokes out a small laugh at that. “Yeah. I understood what you meant.” His eyes meet Dean’s again, but this time it’s different, and Dean forgets to breathe for a second, because _holy fuck_ Cas is beautiful and so far out of Dean’s league that they might as well be playing different sports. Cas breaks first, looking away and swallowing hard. “It is a shame though.”

Dean frowns, not following Cas’s train of thought. “What is?”

Cas still won’t look at him, “that you’re not… you know.”

Instantly, Dean’s heart picks up the pace, pounding frenetically against his ribcage, hope spiraling in his chest. “I’m not what, Cas?”

“Gay,” he forces out a bitter-sounding laugh, “or into me.”

Cas has thought this whole time that Dean wasn’t interested…? Is that why he’s been pretty much avoiding Dean? Is that why they haven’t…?

Holy shit. It’s time to remedy this misunderstanding of epic proportions right the fuck here.

“Maybe,” Dean agrees, barely able to keep the excitement from his voice, “but I am bi,” he sucks in a deep breath, going for broke. “And you are quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he shrugs nonchalantly as if it ain’t no big thing, “so there’s that.”

Cas’s head snaps back so fast that Dean’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “What? You’re bisexual?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, head bobbing enthusiastically. “Gabriel didn’t tell you?”

Castiel suddenly looks sheepish, “Well he did, but Gabriel telling the truth about anything is a rare occurrence. He’ll be well suited to a career in law.”

Dean chuckles because he couldn’t agree more.

“I thought he was joking,” Cas adds softly, imploring. “I thought the whole thing was one of his ridiculous initiations that got out of hand. It wouldn’t be the first time.  You should have seen what he did for my first day at high school.”

Well, shit.

Silence descends once more as Dean processes the information. Really, there’s only one thing that he wants to ask.

So he does. “Cas, will you help me put an end to your brother’s reign of terror?”

Castiel catches on quickly, eyes darkening, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, before he replies, “we’d be heroes, right?”

Dean smirks. “Hell yeah. I’ll buy you a fuckin’ cape and everything.”

 

 

***

In the hundreds of fantasies that Cas had starred in, Dean always imagined that he’d be slow and gentle; breathy kisses pressed into skin as they made love – which Dean has never really done, but he’d be willing to make the exception for Cas – but he was so completely fucking wrong.

And it’s awesome.

Castiel practically drags him out of the cafeteria and into the janitor’s closet halfway down the hall, kicking the door shut behind them. Dean’s back hits the nearest row shelves, slamming against it, making various tins and tools rattle as Cas jumps at him, fingers twisting in Dean’s button down, mouths slanting together, all slick hot pressure, and _goddamn_ , Cas knows how to kiss.

“Dean,” he pants, fingers working frantically at Dean’s belt, “so fucking hot.”

Dean wholeheartedly echoes the sentiment – not like he could do anything else, what with Cas dropping to his knees, tugging Dean’s boxers and pants down along for the ride, slapping a forearm across Dean’s hips, holding him still.

Jesus, he’s really going to enjoy pulling Cas apart later; fucking into him leisurely, feeling the weight of Cas’s cock on his tongue, kissing him wherever he fucking wants, but for now, there’s this…

And once again, _this_ is fucking _awesome_.

The garbled moan that claws its way out of Dean’s throat as Cas tongues the sensitive vein of his dick is barely human, but Dean is way _way_ past caring; only focusing now on how Cas is closing his lips around the head to suck, that perfect fucking mouth finally on him, and it’s everything and nothing like Dean has spent an unhealthy amount of time imagining.

Cas lowers his head, taking more of Dean in, wrapping slender fingers around what he can’t manage, quick sharp pulls down on the base of his cock with every bob of his head as he sets to work ruining Dean for pretty much anybody else.

“ _Fuck_.” Dean reaches down, cradling the back of Castiel’s head, not pushing him onto his cock further, but just ensuring that he doesn’t pull off, because _Christ_ , he’s going to come and it’s far too soon. Cas isn’t letting up – if anything he’s sucking harder, cheeks hollowing with the effort – and Dean can’t be blamed for the string of curse words that spill from his mouth as he comes down Cas’s throat, hips bucking and fingers twisting – what has to be painfully – in the freshman’s hair.

Cas eventually pulls his mouth off Dean, sitting back on his heels, looking up at Dean in the semi-darkness and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “I want you to take me home, Dean.”

If Dean hadn’t just come, then hearing that in Cas’s gruff, fucked-out voice would have done it.

“ _Goddamn_ , Cas. Fuck yes.”

***

When they emerge, clothes skewed and generally looking worse (or better, depending on the viewpoint) for wear, it’s to a large round of applause and Gabriel is at the forefront of the gathered crowd, shit-eating grin in place, megaphone held in his right hand.

“So, I see you knuckleheads finally decided to listen to me. Mazel tov.” Then he turns away, lifting the megaphone to his lips, “Good news, the pranking is over everybody! I win! Just call me The Matchmaker from now on!”

Cas buries his face in Dean’s neck, huffing out a laugh, as Gabriel carries on shouting away in the background about his success rate, “The Matchmaker? More like The fucking Trickster.”

Which Dean has to agree; yeah, The Trickster definitely has a better ring to it.

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr ](http://not-a-natural-born-idjit.tumblr.com/)


End file.
